Not Thinking Of That
by x-La vie en rose-x
Summary: Something I came up with whilst catching a tinge of eye makeup on Ruth in 5.3. Fluff. :


**A/N: I saw a small clip of 5.3 tonight and this popped into my head. Hope you like it. Don't own H/R or Spooks.**

**Not Thinking Of That**

She looked in the mirror at her freshly washed face. A plush towel wrapped around her cleansed body, hair straggling wet dripping on her shoulders. Her vanity was a chaotic mass of make up, hair things, lotions and jewellery. She felt fresh and new after her sugar scrubbed bath. Her shaven legs smooth and silken as she rubbed the scented lotion into her skin. Starring at her reflection she was trying to remember the last date she had been on; the last time she had prepared herself in this manner for the opposite sex. But this was for _him_. Though unconsciously she did the same thing for him everyday she got ready in the morning.  
But she wasn't thinking of that.

The thoughts running through her mind where too hard to pick apart. Too many were going at once, too many scattered around. She could hear her voice shouting back and forth; an inner battle. Then his voice entered her mind. So calm and collected. If she could she would fall asleep to him every night. Listening to him lull her into sweet slumber. Just thinking about it made her relax. His melodic baritone; his dulcet tone. Her eyelids shuttered at the thought.  
But she wasn't thinking of that.

The powder from her brush flitted onto her cheeks casting a rosy glow. Though she was certain that there would be no reason for the powdered blush. He was sure to make her cheeks flush that night. He had a knack for doing so always so unexpectedly; always secretly thrilling her. This time she would know it would be intentional. It would be his challenge. Though it be a small feat, he would relish in the victory. When she left the Grid that night he asked her to dinner she couldn't keep her mind on her book whilst riding home on the bus, reading the same paragraph over and over. She couldn't eat her small meal of leftover pasta, her appetite nonexistent . She couldn't sleep without thinking of their exchange on that rooftop, tossing and turning in her bed. She felt like a teenager. A girl being asked out by her crush to the school dance. It was overwhelming. When she saw him the next day on the Grid she tried to act normal as if nothing was going on. As if no 'date' was to plan. But when he looked at her she could tell she wasn't the only one thinking of the possibilities.  
But right then, she wasn't thinking of that.

Lifting the lid to her eye shadow palate she swept on the light satin green shade to accentuate her brow. Then the bronze frost to the crease of her eye and the rose pearl for her lid. She hoped he would notice; the time she put into her appearance. She wasn't as confident as she used to be around men. But she knew him. She would be herself despite her nerves. She looked in the mirror, her eyes made up. Bright blue. She wondered if he ever considered her eyes before. She was always getting complements about how blue they were; how 'beautiful'. However, she preferred the chocolate ones; eyes that when looking at her made her feel so safe and so scared all at the same time. Did he like blue? She didn't know. She hoped he did.  
But then again, she wasn't thinking of that.

He rarely wore the colour; the colour that matched her eyes. She wondered what he would wear that night. Shirt and tie? Or would that be too formal? She often saw him with his tie loose in the evening when the choke hold of the restraint had to be released, like the stress of the job. He seemed more relaxed with that top button undone but she knew he was more stressed with his open collar. As if trying to obtain that extra oxygen; as if one undone button would do the trick. Nevertheless she would see a bit of his neck and wonder what cologne he would wear. The scent of his that was ultimately him. Never getting quite close enough to find out. What it would be like to nuzzle into his neck and gently kiss the skin that always looked so soft.  
But... she wasn't thinking of that...His honey colored eyes in the daylight.  
His soft neck... the smell of his skin. The colour of his wardrobe. No, not at all. Not at all.

She stared at the line of lipsticks. Which to choose. What colour would he like. What colour would he not mind washing off his collar. But she wasn't thinking of that; of his full lips. She wasn't thinking of her lipstick stained on his lips. Lips that made her mouth water just at the thought of them. His pout when he is contemplating something. The quiver in his lips as he juts out his chin in frustration. She wasn't thinking about his cupid's bow perfectly setting his most luring feature. His lips, shamelessly wondering how they would feel on her lips...on her neck...on her body.  
But she most definitely wasn't thinking about that. No, not thinking about that.

Ready and waiting the door bell rang, her nerves started to swirl. She opened the door. Brown eyes looked on. His blue, open collared shirt with the perfect amount of buttons undone, inviting. His pouty lips forming a warm smile. Whilst a gentle breeze wafted his scent enveloping her; his voice resonating through to her core asking after her.

She smiled.  
Right then, that night, to hell if she wasn't going to think about_ all_ of that.

**Reviews make me so happy. **


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